


How The Hell Am I GeorgeNotFound?

by QUACKlTY



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, GeorgeNotFound - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), dream - Fandom
Genre: Bodyswap, Dream Smp, Gen, Gender Envy, NSFW, POV First Person, Reader-Interactive, Streaming, george jacking off, how do you tag, i had this idea while brushing my teeth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29830686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QUACKlTY/pseuds/QUACKlTY
Summary: One evening, you wake up in the body of GeorgeNotFound.How will you act when you need to join your friends on stream, or when you get directly confronted by them off-stream?(Reader had a vagina before the body swap. Reader referred to as they/them.)*Some chapters will include mentions of gender dysphoria/gender envy.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	How The Hell Am I GeorgeNotFound?

**Author's Note:**

> Just throwing together my thoughts and posting them on the internet, this is the first fanfic I've written in at least 3 years so it may not be the best! :]
> 
> NSFW WARNING for this chap, I've never written anything explicit so let me know how I did haha

I slowly blinked, gaining consciousness, feeling exhausted yet energetic at the same time. _Why does it feel like I’ve been asleep forever?_ I barely ever got a full night’s sleep thanks to my quarantine sleep schedule, so feeling as if I’ve slept for at least eight hours confused me. I picked up my phone, checking the time; seeing that it was 6pm made me even more puzzled. Normally this was my prime time, I would be up doing fuck-knows what – sometimes it would be school work, other times editing, and more often than not catching up on YouTube videos or Twitch streams – all that mattered was that I had energy at that time of day, and it was almost never spent sleeping.

Putting my phone back down onto the pillow next to me, I rubbed sleep from my eyes and began to sit up. My phone. On the pillow next to me. The pillow next to me? My phone, an iPhone 11? My eyes widened, realizing I wasn’t in my regular room. I whipped my head to my left to look at my phone again. This made my eyes travel down the bed, and slowly around my whole room. From left to right, there was a bow window with a worrying amount of cardboard boxes piled up beneath it, a desk with what seemed to be a gaming pc, judging by the LED lights shining through the case and the three monitors stood atop the desk. Above them, decorating the otherwise blank walls of the room, there were multiple YouTube play buttons, both gold and silver. To the right of the desk there was a small silver bin, and around one meter away from that was a chest of drawers, seemingly average size with almost nothing on top of that (except the petty pen pot, which was clearly too small for the amount of pens and pencils it was holding). Another few meters away stood the door, it was at a 90 degree angle to the desk.

Beside the door was a wardrobe, none of the contents spilling out as it was neatly closed and no clothes were seen on the floor nearby. And finally, back at the wall that the bed stood against, there was a full length mirror (very clean, might I add, there was not a single fingerprint to be seen), and another meter along were two bedside tables with a queen sized bed in the middle. These seemed to be the messiest part of the room, as they held many different plates, glasses (some empty, some still half-full), and even sweet wrappers that looked as if they hadn’t been touched in weeks. There was one lamp on one of the bedside tables rather than having one for each, the asymmetry making perfect sense as this was clearly a room belonging to only one person. It was obvious that the carpeted floor hadn’t been vacuumed in a while but it didn’t matter much, there was barely a mess, save for the odd few crumbs that littered the grey carpet.

My eyes met the foot of the bed again, bringing me back to my senses. This quite obviously was not my room, yet it seemed strangely familiar – it gave me a sudden feeling of déjà vu. With the renewed vigor I got from the somewhat unwelcome feeling, I threw my legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

The cool air hit my chest, a shocking contrast to the warmth of the bed covers. At first it seemed normal since my room was always unusually cold, but then it clocked in my brain.

_I’m shirtless._

My hands shot up to my chest instinctively, trying to cover my breasts. Instead of soft meat I was hit with a flat chest and hard ribs. I stood there for a second, every thought in my head short-circuiting as I was hit with the realization.

_Where the fuck are my tits?_

It didn’t stop there: slowly, but surely, I brought my hands down my chest, abdomen, and eventually made contact with fabric. I looked down, and I recognized this fabric as boxers. My hands stiffened and stopped at my v-line as another, this time unidentified, feeling washed over me. I eyed the cotton and whatever was beneath it, making sure I wasn’t just dreaming. Surely enough, as I realized that this was _way_ too realistic to just be a dream (even a lucid dream, I had those often and none were as vivid as this) I became hyper-aware of the feeling between my legs. I was more than 100% certain that what was down there was attached to my body, and this suspicion was confirmed when I shifted my leg and felt a movement against this new body part. It was a foreign feeling, but it certainly wasn’t unwelcome – it felt surprisingly natural, yet everything around the area was sensitive. I stood for a few seconds pondering this, and it didn’t take long before it clicked. The reason the bulge was probably slightly bigger than it should be, and the reason it was starting to ache beneath the fabric.

_Right, morning wood._

I chuckled slightly to myself, my brain immediately trying to think of solutions to this slight inconvenience. It was either wank off now or wait it out, right? Again, going over my options, I couldn’t find a single reason why I shouldn’t jack it, right here, right now. There was nothing to lose, but plenty to gain. It was an experience, for one, and waiting would just be annoying. I figured that in the end it would be quicker to rub one out, considering how sensitive the area already was... _and with every passing second, the thought became more and more appealing, but I would never admit that to myself. Way too embarrassing._

I took a quick glance to the bedside table, knowing that was the only obvious area with items that could be of use. Somewhat, to my surprise, there was no lube to be seen. _Whatever,_ I thought. _It’ll be better if my first time is raw._ With that, I grabbed the waistband of my boxers and pulled them down, my dick springing out of them, clearly already leaking pre-cum. I groaned, the warmth in my stomach pooling as I grew more eager to release the tension in my muscles. I brought a hand to my shaft, suddenly realizing how sensitive I really was. My knees suddenly felt weaker, so I did the wise thing and sat back down onto the bed. Taking a deep breath, I started moving up to the tip. When I finally did reach it, I realized that my cock was probably an above average length. _Whoever this guy is, I’m pretty impressed._ I thumbed the slit, groaning. I’ve given my fair share of handjobs throughout my life, but I never realized it could feel _this_ good to the receiving end. I took a moment, just looking at my cock, hand still resting near the top. The longer it stood without any action, the more often it twitched. I noticed how much different they look from this angle, almost even more appealing than from where I had normally seen them. Sighing, I remembered that it wasn’t going to rub itself, and that I actually had to put in a little effort for pleasure.

I ran my fingers gently down the veins at first, sending a shock up my spine. Jesus, I’m almost as sensitive as a guy who’s just started going through puberty. My hand went up and down a few times, earning either a groan, breath or a small _fuck_ ; as embarrassing as this already was, I couldn’t control my noises. Soon enough, my length started throbbing, signalling that I was close. At this point I was getting impatient, so I gripped myself a little harder and flicked my fingers over the tip every few strokes. Finally, to my relief, I felt my orgasm washed over me. Cum leaked out rapidly, but gradually slowed and eventually stopped as I stroked out my orgasm. _Fuck,_ I whispered to myself once more as I realized I now had to go and wash myself. I got up once again, knees shaking a little this time. I abandoned my boxers beside my bed and made my way over to the wardrobe, hoping this guy had a decent clothing style. Opening the door, I was met with many neatly-folded shirts, hung up hoodies (somewhat color-coordinated) and a pile of also folded sweatpants. I sighed, thanking whoever this was for owning comfortable clothes. Eventually, I decided on a grey hoodie and grey sweatpants. It was the easiest, most simple and by far most comfortable combo. I closed the doors and took a few steps toward the drawers, remembering that I had no clue which held underwear. Taking a guess with the top drawer, I grabbed the handle and pulled it open. To my surprise, it didn’t hold any underwear – or even socks, for that matter. It was quite barren, the only contents being…

My eyes widened slightly as I felt heat rush to my face. I promptly closed the drawer, causing a clatter.

_Lube, condoms and tissues in that drawer. Noted._

With that, I rushed to find the underwear as my cum was starting to dry on my skin uncomfortably. Finally finding them in the second to last drawer, I grabbed them and rushed out of the room. The hallway was around the same temperature as the room, so despite being naked I didn’t even get goosebumps when I stepped out onto the hardwood floor. One of the doors down the hall was open, so I took a small look in and recognized it as a bathroom. _Perfect._ I stepped in, immediately dropping my clothes onto the floor, locking the door and taking a few large steps to the shower. As the water started to flow onto my skin and down my body, I sighed in relief. The feeling of grime washed away with the soap and my bed hair was flattened with the water, shortly after being strewn in all directions as I washed it with what seemed to be a 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner.

After my hands made their way across my whole body and made sure every inch of me was clean, I stepped out of the shower, creating a small puddle of water on the floor outside the shower. I grabbed the only towel that was hung up on the door and started wiping away the drops of water that remained on my skin. Putting my outfit on with ease, I then started rubbing my hair with the towel. I turned towards the mirror to check the state my hair was in, and only then did I realise something. I stood frozen, looking at my features twice, thrice, before my jaw dropped and I stared into my own eyes. I recognized this face. I’d seen it hundreds of times before on my phone, monitor, television, you name it: but in real life? This was the first time, and it felt surreal. I dropped the towel promptly and lightly put my hand up to my face to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Sure enough, I was awake as I felt my icy touch on my right cheek. Blinking a few times, I realized something I should have realized at least an hour prior to this moment:

_I am in the body of GeorgeNotFound._


End file.
